


You Became His

by cbtothekk



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, F/M, Horror, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Teasing, Torture, Violence, Yandere, Yandere Strade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbtothekk/pseuds/cbtothekk
Summary: It was his smile that drew you in. Friendly and full of life. Innocent.





	You Became His

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellaisgrumpy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellaisgrumpy/gifts).



> HHHHHHH I finally post more btd content and its pure FILTH :,) have fun kiddos

It was his smile that drew you in. Friendly and full of life. Innocent.

You noticed him from across the lively bar, he was talking to someone. His voice loud, deep chuckles mixed with a faint German accent. You watched as someone came to collect the person the man was speaking to, you assumed he was the boyfriend. He was tall, his muscles rippling through his shirt. The man’s smile dropped as they left.

As he turned back to his drink at the bar, you continued to watch him. He wasn’t doing anything particularly interesting, nursing his drink, speaking to the bartender. But for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off his form.

He spun around in his chair, surveying the room. His eyes met yours, widening as he smiled at you. You turned around, biting your lip in embarrassment. Your eyes trained on the table, hiding in the booth you sat in. Your fingers, picking at your fingernails. A nervous habit.

“Hey there!” It was the man, he leaned over the table, his contagious smile on show.

“This seat taken?” he asked, already sliding into the seat.

You shook your head anyway, a shy smile coming to the surface.

“Here, I bought you a drink. You seem nervous… drink up! It’s on me,” the man chuckled.

You took it from him, albeit carefully. You knew it was dangerous to take drinks from strangers… but he just seemed so cheerful and innocent. No one with a smile so genuine could be a bad person.

“Thank you… Oh sorry, I didn’t get your name?

The man stuck out his hand, “Name’s Strade! Yours?”

You took his hand, gripping it weakly, “(Y/N).”

“Nice to meet ya, (Y/N)!” He watched as you shyly avoided eye contact, retreating your arm back into your personal bubble.

“Aw, no need to be shy! It’s just me,” he smiled.

You apologised.

Strade was nice, a little too friendly and touchy, but you didn’t mind his company. But, it was getting late. You didn’t want to be out for too long. His company made you feel warm and wanted, he complimented you, blushing himself when you did the same. He was so inviting, you just about spilled your whole life story to this stranger you met in a dingy bar.

It was… nice. Your face ached from smiling. Your stomach felt light, shoulders relaxed as you laughed at another one of his jokes. But all good things had to end.

“Strade… thank you for a lovely night, but I have to leave now… Gotta hit the hay and all,” you smiled.

Strade nodded, “Nice meeting ya!”

He waved as you made your way outside. You waved back before shouldering the bar door open. Shivering at the cold air, you pulled your coat tighter, rubbing your arms in an attempt to create warmth.

It was dark, the only light coming from the dim streetlights and the moon. It was calm. Serene. The cobblestone pavement was covered in dirt, bottles of all sorts of alcohol tucked into the corners. No people in sight, you could hear muffled sounds coming from a nearby dumpster, but you decided not to check that out. You didn’t need a hungry animal fighting you for food.

You wandered down the street, shoes clicking against the ground, taking in the unpleasant sights with a smile on your face. You had had an enjoyable night with Strade, you almost wish you would be able to see him again.

Arms constricted around your waist and throat, a hand clamping over your mouth as you were pushed into the closest brick-wall of the alleyway. Your screams were muffled, attempts at escaping unsuccessful.

“Are you gonna be good? Or am I gonna have to force you… hm?”

You frowned, shaking your head as you bit hard into the hand forcing in your screams for help. The man swore, his group loosening.

“Scheisse!” Blood rose to the surface of where you had bitten, angry red spilling from his hand.

Sparing no more time to watch him, you took off. Throat dry, legs burning and anxiety filling your gut. The stomping of his heavy steps following close behind you, his angry grumbling. If he caught you, you didn’t want to think about what he would do to you.

The sound of his steps paused, but only momentarily as a heavy weight tackled you to the ground. Hands found your wrists, knees pinning your back down, trapped. A blunt force hit your head, black spots filled your vision.

 

 

You startled awake, immediately struggling in your apparent bonds. Your wrists ached, the bonds that bit into your hands felt coarse. Probably rope. The room was dark, you could vaguely make out the blurred shapes of tools. Stairs, there was minimal light coming from the staircase, but enough for you to identify the cool ground as concrete. Memories resurfaced from the night before. Pleasant chatter, laughs, anxiety, pain.

Strade.

You glanced down. Fully clothed… without a jacket but it wasn’t too cold. Even your shoes were still in place. You breathed a sigh of relief. You crinkled your nose, it wasn’t obvious before, not was it even very prominent now, but you smelled something… coppery?

A door slamming and the stomping of boots on stairs preceded your flinch. Heavy-duty boots came into view, you shuffled backwards against the pole you sat against, pulling on the rope. The room was suddenly lit, the sound of a light switch registering after.

“Hey! You’re awake. Finally,” the man smiled. Strade. “How ya feelin’ there? Hungry? Thirsty?”

You shook your head, not trusting whatever he would give you.

He was eerily calm, maybe excited? That contagious smile. It made you nervous.

“Aw… shy? No need to be!”

You shook you head, breathing evenly in an attempt to calm yourself, “Sorry… I- can I ask why I’m here…?”

Strade placed his hands on his hips, he looked sort of heroic. “Ah… You see, we’re going to have a very… intimate experience! I promise you’ll enjoy it, does that ease your nerves?”

You didn’t reply.

You squirmed, nervous energy filling you.

Strade wandered over to his tool shelf, surveying the options with a hum.

“Hmmm… because I like you, I’m gonna give you a choice.” He chose two options.

One, a large hunting knife, the other a sharp hook. Fear coursed your body, fight of flight kicking in as your eyes widened and you swallowed. Dry.

“I… I don’t want either…”

Strade chuckled, his eyes showing his displeasure. “Hey, come on. I’m being nice, giving you a choice. You’d better choose before I decide for you!”

Slowly, you pointed at the knife. It would be better if he killed you with the knife, rather than toy with you with the hook.

But unfortunately for you, you would not be dying today.

His eyes shut, pure glee overtaking his expression. Sharp canines, shiny with saliva. The sharp clang of the hook hitting the hard ground startled you, shaking you to your core.

“Please stop. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything!” you pleaded, tears spilling over your cheeks.

A wolfish grin, eyes sparkling. “Anything? Take off your clothes.”

Slowly, you shook your head. He leaned in, angling the knife near your thighs, threatening you wordlessly. As he leaned in, you butted his head, pushing him over before straddling him. His grip loosened, the large knife dropping to the ground with a clatter.

Your hands tightened around his throat, his own pulling at your wrists. His eyes bulging as his face became red, his legs kicking as you heaved breath after breath, trying to keep your strength in your hands. Red morphed into purple, his hands loosened, his legs stilled. You took your hands off his throat slowly, full of caution. His body lay still, tears filled your eyes, spilling over onto your cheeks. You shuffled away, head in your hands.

It was in self-defence, you argued with yourself. You had killed him, but he wanted to kill you. You couldn’t just let it happen. Pain exploded in your skull, and you saw black.

 

Waking up the second time was less ceremonious than the last, though this time there was a dull ache pounding in your head.

You recognised your surroundings. The same dirty floor, the large variety of dangerous-looking tools, that copper smell. Now that you looked around more, you noticed the splatters of crimson that stained the concrete floor surrounding you. Blood.

“You’re awake. You know…you’re lucky, don’t you think? Even after you so brutally attacked me, I had to fake passing out, I was always told that I was a good actor, I’ve kept you alive! You’d better be thanking your lucky stars… thanking me!” That predatory stare, trained on your weak form.

His eyes narrowed. “Thank me.”

Quietly, you responded, silently cursing the tremor in your voice, “Thank you, Strade.”

Nodding, he pulled out a large hunting knife. The one from earlier, you recognised. You shook your head, but he ignored you.

He haphazardly cut away your skimpy clothes, nicking your skin, ignoring your gasps of pain. You were left in your underwear, tied up, bleeding and completely at his mercy.

“Mmmmmmmh… So unbroken, so beautiful.” He trailed his fingers over your thighs, “Look at you… shaking for me…”

The sharp knife sliced through the skin of your thigh, pulling a deep groan from the depths of your lungs. He shook too, but his looked as though it was from excitement. Blood spilled over your legs, the wound was deeper than you had realised. He stared intently at you, warmth splotching over his cheeks and throat.

“You… fuck.”

The pain came after your scream, he had raked the knife over your thighs again, shoving his fingers inside the wound and smearing the blood in harsh circles. He leant forward, shoving his face in your hair, breathing in deeply. It hurt, fuck it hurt. Your thighs throbbed, the ache spreading through your legs.

The blade was tossed behind him as he pulled out your legs, your wrists still tied behind your head. You laid on your back, the warm feeling of your own life-force pooling underneath you. His rough hands ripped your underwear from you, uncaring of the ruined fabric. Fingers covered in blood were forced inside you, eliciting a ragged shriek of pain.

They pumped in and out, ignoring your pleads for him to stop, to slow down, to go away. Biting his lip, he began fondling your sensitive privates, rubbing and stroking until you were sobbing and begging him to stop.

“(Y/N), I can’t wait any longer… I need you, I’ve been watching you for so long. Fuck, you’re gonna stay here with me.”

His fingers were pulled roughly pulled from your depths, your whine of relief was shortly lived before he was shoving his cock in, filling you up. His groan filled you with fear, and… want. “Strade, no stop!” you begged.

You gasped as he thrusted in with more force, his hips meeting yours with harsh smacks. His girth filled you up, stretching you and bringing tears to your eyes. He leant in and bit down on your sensitive neck, drawing blood.

He groaned in your ear, moist breath tickling your throat. Each time he pulled out, he would thrust in harder. “Fuck… you feel… fuck.”

“Sto-aaah!” Your screams echoed in the small basement.

It felt so good, yet it filled you with disgust. You couldn’t deny the pleasure.

You moaned as he slowed down his thrusts, teasing you. “Aw look at that… your hips don’t stop.”

It was true, his movements paused and yet your hips kept thrusting up, searching for more, begging to be filled. His movements were more drawn out now, denying your climax. Broken sobs filled the room, his strong hands grasping your hips with so much strength that you were certain that you were already bruised.

“Keep going… please don’t stop,” you cried out, as a result of Strade’s minor movements.

“Look at you… so ruined, broken, begging and sobbing like a bitch, just for me…”

He sped up his thrusts, fucking you good now. Slowly unsheathing his cock only for him to thrust back inside, basking in your moans.

His movements stuttered, cock twitching and pulsing. Warmth filled you, his cock squelching as his cum oozed out of you.

It was the sound of your defeat.

 

You heaved breaths, throat hoarse from your screaming, lips bitten raw and face stained with tears. You attempted to catch your breath, flinching as cool metal slid around your neck. Opening your eyes, you looked up at Strade. He was smiling down at you, hands caressing the collar-like object around your neck.

“It’s a gift, something special so that you know you’re mine! All mine, no one else’s… I’ve been waiting for this day, I’m so glad it worked out! I bet you’ll love Ren.”

 

With that, you knew you would never be able to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls tell me if you like this nasty content? Want more? Never wanna see me again? Want my children? LET ME KNOW <3


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